I had pencilled into the diary the outdoor cinema event, but by 2pm I am indoors, wearing two fluffy jumpers and a coat, feeling the need to don my woolly socks and shutter the windows from the beating rain. In my new spirit of stay-at-home, I decided to not sit in a fold-up chair in a wet field. I am a bit sad about that, because I still feel it's what I should have done, but I am trying to indulge myself elsewhere.
Anyway, it is August. Strange, this means - even though we don't do school and I have no pressure to follow any targets, times, or tests - I still breathe an educational sigh of relief; I take August as a holiday, and feel righteous in abandoning and ignoring my offspring in the hope they will wander about looking bored.
Left alone to my own intrigues I flip through the newly purchased Latin book (recommended) and am reminded of Ovid's Daphne. Kindly, I stitch her a notebook so she can chronicle the chase and the change. (Not that she can ever open it with her weathered twiggy fingers.)
Sadly, the children do not become bored, so I have failed on that parental holiday obligation. Squirrel is up to her inscrutables, Tiger plays the horse game, and Shark researches fish, emerging at one point to cook cake-on-sticks without the sticks.
I think they could make excellent atoms, so anyone coming round here for chemistry, at some point you can expect to make these.